


behind scarred masks

by ghostkids



Series: code/red [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Identity Reveal, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Needs a Hug, Aftermath of Torture, Attempted Forced Identity Reveal, Autistic Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Autistic Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Blood, Evil Lila Rossi, F/F, F/M, Forced Identity Reveal, Good Parents Sabine Cheng & Tom Dupain, Graphic Description of Injury, Identity Reveal, Injury Recovery, Lila Rossi Lies, Lila Rossi's Lies Are Exposed, M/M, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Has Grey Eyes, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Identity Reveal, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Needs a Hug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Uses They/Them Pronouns, Misgendering, Multi, Protective Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2020-05-16 08:49:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19314745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostkids/pseuds/ghostkids
Summary: ladybug is captured. tortured. all to reveal their identity. it doesn't work, but they are left to pay the price.they were supposed to be the hero. so why couldn't they save themself this time?





	1. i

everything is going wrong. all pauline wanted was a pastry. instead, she misses her bus and somehow ends up in the opposite direction of her favorite bakery. she gets off the bus in an attempt to go back the way she came, but now, it's starting to rain. not a lot, just a drizzle really, but she hates rain and she hates getting wet. and she has to walk, because she doesn't trust herself to go the right direction if she gets back on the bus.

now she's walking through the back streets of paris, vaguely lost and definitely damp, and all she wants is to go home. she thinks she might know where she's going, but that thought goes out the window as she walks past a side street and hears a voice she definitely doesn't expect to hear.

(“i found you, i finally found you,” the voice says.)

she almost walks past at first. the words are completely ordinary, but something in the tone makes her hesitate, freeze with one foot halfway to the ground. the voice keeps talking.

as the voice says “ladybug,” and another voice says, “i have no idea what you’re talking about,” the woman turns back. that second voice sounds just this side of terrified and she can’t leave someone to feel that scared, even if they can potentially handle it on their own.

she takes one look and her heart sinks down into her stomach, cold.

small girl, dark black hair, backed up against the wall. woman with a camera and a scowl towering over her, pushing her back through sheer force of will. the girl clutches a box in her arms, _t &s boulangerie patisserie_, so tight the thin cardboard buckles under her grip.

“i saw you transform. drop the act and do it again for the camera like a good little girl,” the reporter says, aiming the camera at the girl. "you know what i want. you know-"

“i already _said_ ,” the girl spits, glaring. her expression is all ladybug, so much so suddenly that the woman’s breath catches. she's not convinced that the girl _isn't_ ladybug, now. “i don’t know what you’re talking about. leave me alone.”

the woman continues speaking, unruffled by the interruption. "you know what i want you to do."

she's seen enough. pauline steps forward before she even knows what she's doing. "hey! stop!" she yells, holding her hands up in some fighting stance she saw on the television. she rushes around the corner, completely prepared to fight her way through if she has to.

the woman turns to glare at her, brow furrowing in annoyance, hand clenching at her side. the girl's expression, grey eyes wide and scared, will stay with pauline for the rest of her life.

she doesn’t see the glint of silver until too late, only feels something cool-cold at her side, dull pain blooming from her ribcage. her world goes foggy, everything appearing far away as she falls to her knees. she doesn't register why until the second woman brings the knife back, shiny-slick with bright blood, and she realizes the blood is _hers_.

the girl that might be ladybug _screams_ and yelps something that could have been "tikki, _transf_ -!" but the words are cut off as the reporter claps a hand over the girl's mouth. as the second woman brings the knife to the girl's throat, the box falls to the ground. cake splatters over the pavement.

"oh no you don't!" the reporter says. "not like that, you aren't."

the girl's eyes are wide and bright behind the hand. she digs in her heels and drops her weight, resisting as much as she can when her entire body is restrained, panic in her eyes. but she's losing.

pauline has to help the girl. she's just a child, like she was so long ago. pauline tries to get up. but her legs won't work, and the woman is dragging the girl backward, and pauline's vision is growing dark.

(all she wanted was a pastry.)

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

_they remember the terror of having a weight suddenly dragging them down. their yo-yo shoots out as they make an effort to stop their fall, earrings beeping a frantic, final warning. a hand tugs sharply at their earlobe, and they're already seconds away from being their civilian self, but their attacker reaches for the spotted earring and yanks it free, and they can't stop it in time._

_they hear the screams of the crowd still echoing in their head as they tip sideways, trying to correct their path even as their transformation is ripped away. out of their control, red light flashes around them. the video cuts out for a second, static flickering across the screen._

_it’s more terrifying to watch from an outside perspective, if that’s even possible._

_they remember hitting the ground, remember their attacker falling on top of them, the weight and the impact stealing the breath from their lungs. their world goes dark, a strange ringing in their ears as the earring rolls from the reporter's limp hand._

_they don't remember anything else._

 

* * *

 

they come back to consciousness with a sharp gasp. the world fragments in front of them, shapes and colors like light flashing off bright water. people are screaming, voices high and terrified, but they can't place why people are screaming or where they are. their hand twitches in front of them, pale skin blooming red with blood. where are they- no, more important, their costume is gone, just gone, and they're hurt, fire burning in their ribs and in their shoulders where they hit the ground first. their costume is gone. okay, that's bad; people know they were ladybug- did they lose their transformation in front of the crowd? they must have, or why else would people be screaming?

okay, that's worse, then, much worse. can they get up? they have to get up. they have to get away. bringing their hands underneath them, marinette tries to sit, only to collapse with a yelp. no, no, that's not an option. their arm burns where they used their hands to push against the ground, their shoulder on fire.

"ladybug? ladybug?"

officer vincent is- somewhere, her voice filtering through the earpiece that somehow stayed with them through the fall. that's right, they'd turned on their earpiece as soon as they escaped in an attempt to get help.

"owww," they can only groan in response.

and the woman is coming. her feet appear at the edges of marinette's blurred vision. if marinette didn't know better, they would think the woman was akumatized; her speed doesn't seem natural, but she doesn't have the telltale feral expression in her eyes, only anger. that, and they've already fought one akuma this morning and hawkmoth doesn't usually send out two this close together. usually.

 

* * *

 

_get up._

(they have to get up. they have to-)

marinette rolls uselessly to one side, arm up in some aborted move to keep the woman at bay. but then the woman is on them, yanking them up by the hair, far from gentle, and they can't stop the yelp of agony that leaves their mouth as the motion pulls on every one of their injuries.

"look at your hero!" the woman cries, almost shaking them. marinette has gone limp, head lolling, and they aren't pretending. "look at your hero! and this is who we let _protect_ us every day? pathetic, weak, useless children!"

marinette can barely make out her words. everything sounds distant and echoing. the sound of the crowd grows to a dull roar behind them. only just on the correct side of conscious, marinette can't tell if the people are screaming for them or against them anymore. right now, they just want the pain to stop.

"let ladybug go!" cries one of the civilians, voice piercing through the fog in marinette's head. "they don't deserve this!"

marinette manages to get their feet under them just as the woman freezes dangerously at the words.

 

* * *

 

"you want her, then?" the reporter spits, eyes wild. "you'll have to come _get her_!"

( _she can't even get their_ gender _right_ , marinette thinks wildly, irrationally, still trying to break free).

they forget about the knife. they always forget about the knife. the reporter's hand lifts-

[" _n_ _o!_ " tikki shrills, voice still thrumming from the energy backlash of the forced detransformation and- " _m_ _arinette!_ " -

people cringe, covering their ears, as the sound like audio feedback reaches them even at the edges of a crowd that's getting larger and larger, pushing at the police barricade.]-

and she drives the knife straight into ladybug's side.

 

* * *

 

in that split second between conscious and unconscious, marinette realizes that they do know this false reporter, that they do recognize that smug little twist of the lips when she speaks and that they do know why she hates them so much.

the imposter is lila, lila the _liar_ from back in their first college - lila who hated them, lila who always bullied them, lila who turned most of the class against them (except for those few who stuck by them throughout the lies and and the hurt). lila who followed them to their current college, who tried to shove them down the stairs just last week.

huh. maybe they should have guessed she would have it in her, to stab the heroine of paris in front of a crowd. no one else would have done that. 

[it's stupid of her, of course. she'll get in trouble, real trouble, for her mistake, if she gets caught. that's something marinette never got the satisfaction of seeing, not back in their first college, not even when they had to transfer schools because the bullying would not stop no matter what they tried.]

in that split second between conscious and unconscious, marinette wonders what they ever did to deserve this. weren't they supposed to be the lucky one?


	3. Chapter 3

_"hey, look, em, it's ladybug!" the voice cries from behind the camera. the footage is shaky, but anyone watching can clearly see the small form of the hero as they bound across buildings, finally coming to a stop on the rooftop closest to the camera. the camera shakes, part of the girl's hand appearing briefly as she waves. "ladybug! ladybug, hi!"_

_ladybug doesn't seem to hear her calls. the hero is staring off into the distance, completely still, and doesn't even turn their head to glance at the two girls, despite how loudly they are talking. other people on the street are starting to take notice of ladybug's uncharacteristic behavior. em can hear the slowly gathering crowd muttering about whether or not the hero is alright._

_ladybug turns to face the growing noise, shoulders hunched over, one hand pressed against their ribs. something is definitely wrong._ _juliette has started talking about how cool this is, because they never get to see either of the heroes, but em knows with certainty that they don't want to be seeing ladybug right now, not like this._

_em tugs at juliette's arm to get her to stop talking. "etti, etti, no, something's wrong. i think something's wrong with ladybug."_

_"wrong?" juliette starts to question, just as everything goes completely sideways._

 

* * *

 

later, marinette has no memory of how they got as far away from the scene of the incident as they did. all they know is that the woman had been coming for them again, blood still shining dark on the knife clenched in her hand, the others following close behind. so many people, surrounding them, trapping them, and with them in their civilian form. people will know their face. people will know who they are. people will-

they only remember gasping "tikki, transforme-moi," and bolting for the rooftops, pushing past the dizziness and the screaming pain in their side to get away. they have to get away. they pay no heed to the cries as people try to stop them. everything reads as threat; someone grabs their arm, and they wrench free with a sharp cry of pain as the movement tears at their shoulder, and then they are safe from the people on the ground but they aren't safe from the people in the sky.

the chop-chop-chop of helicopter blades follows them even up on the rooftops. their ears are still ringing, but they can make out that much noise; swinging their head to one side, they spot two, three, maybe four helicopters hovering above them. _those weren't there before_ , marinette thinks as they bolt headlong in the opposite direction, their entire body screaming at them to stop moving _now._ they stumble, struggling not to give in to the pain trickling like fire down their side. no, no, they can't stop. they have to keep moving.

later, marinette could not have said what they were thinking in those moments of desperate flight. all they remember knowing in the moment is that they are injured and that they can't go home. the people in helicopters are following them; going home would be as good as handing the news and the police their true name on a silver platter and they can't go to the hospital, not right now, for that same reason. no, their best chance is to hide, wait for everyone to stop looking for them, and then make their way home- or maybe straight to the nearest hospital, marinette decides, as pain shoots through their side again.

marinette has to lose the helicopters before they can do anything else, though, and their pilots don't seem keen on abandoning the chase. and marinette is running out of energy. later, they will realize that blood loss and shock are sapping their strength, but now, they only know that they are losing energy fast and that they have to get away quickly, before they can't move anymore.

blinking red out of their vision--has their face stopped bleeding? they don't think so, but they can't stop to check _now_ \--they turn and bolt, sliding down the roof. hopping to the next building, they scramble under an overhang to hide for a moment. just one moment. their leg screams in agony. they can't even sit, so they lean against the wall to take some of the pressure of standing away.

marinette hides as the helicopters circle overhead like large birds of prey. waiting. 

 

* * *

 

 

 

marinette groans weakly, face pressed into something rough and gritty.


End file.
